


Mal/Jayne ficlet

by Threatie



Category: Firefly
Genre: Body Language, M/M, Non-Penetrative Sex, Nonverbal Communication, handjobs, undernegotiation for the comfort of one partner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:21:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26910559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Threatie/pseuds/Threatie
Summary: Mal goes to Jayne's room for some mutual relaxation.
Relationships: Jayne Cobb/Malcolm Reynolds
Comments: 3
Kudos: 7





	Mal/Jayne ficlet

**Author's Note:**

> This fic depicts Jayne as having good intentions but being unable to or uncomfortable with communicating them, and Mal carefully keeping things within his comfort zone. The extent to which this is negotiated in advance is not clear. Both parties are fully consenting at all times.

The thing about sex with Jayne is that Mal has to lose a fight first. 

Partially foreplay, partially permission, Jayne needs the confidence of having taken him down with brute force before he'll do it again with gentleness.

The complicating factor is that Mal is his captain, and to lose a fight anywhere on Mal's own territory would unsettle his sparring partner. Not if Jayne wasn't fighting him for real. By some complicated logic, the man has standards for the circumstances under which he'll mutiny. No, if Mal wants Jayne on top of him, then it has to happen on Jayne's turf, somewhere he could be reasonably assumed to have the advantage.

Which is why he's currently being shoved down onto Jayne's low, narrow bed, having mounted a satisfactory but ultimately unsuccessful defense after stepping conspicuously- invitingly- into his bunk.

Jayne isn't going to fuck him, because Jayne isn't going to finger him. Something about the _duration_ of the intimacy required short-circuits him, trapped between showy contempt for authority and real, genuine feeling he can't help but turn away from, even like this. Even when it's just them. Maybe _especially_ when it's just them.

Mal does it himself, when he's wanting that, or brings along another crewmate who'll do it for him. Jayne has no trouble with the act itself, as long as someone else handles the particulars. But Mal hasn't, so Jayne is pushing his shirt up instead, exposing the soft-ish skin of his stomach. Mal helps, a bit; doesn't want the laundry, for one thing, and then Jayne has himself in hand and is rutting against him, mostly on top of him and with a leg between his that Mal would very much like to push into. 

Instead he lies there, closing his eyes for long intervals, and saves Jayne the trouble of holding him down. A strange thought drifts past his mind, something like, _the lengths I'll go to for a moment of peace,_ and he smiles, just slightly.

"Somethin' funny?"

"No...no." Mal shakes his head languidly from side to side, brings his hands up to rest, open, on either side of the pillow. Jayne won't accept openness from words alone, so Mal shows him with his whole body. "'S just nice."

Jayne makes an assenting noise, resumes rocking against him. His rhythm is pleasantly hypnotic. Mal is almost disappointed when Jayne gasps, stutters, his thrusts turning warm and slick.

Jayne turns, slightly, attempts to wedge himself down between Mal and the wall. The sheer mass of him nudges Mal's shoulder an inch or two past the edge of the bed, but that's all right. Jayne's hand is down his pants, now, and Mal reaches down to open them for him, unclipping and unbuttoning and unzipping until he can push things down, save himself the laundry. Jayne, for his part, is almost fully clothed, comfortable in the knowledge that Mal is restrained from groping him by the possibility of hidden knives lurking in unknown locations beneath his clothes. 

He takes Mal in hand with the gentleness he'd use for any weapon, and then it's nice, again, and soothing, and Mal closes his eyes some more until he can no longer ignore the pleasure, and he comes, suddenly, in Jayne's skillful hand. 

Then it's quiet. Just their breathing, and Jayne's body against his. It's not cuddling, not exactly; Jayne wouldn't do anything that might be classified as such, at least not with Mal, but they are, by necessity, lying pressed together and in companionable silence.

A little more drifting, Mal thinks, and then he'll sneak out. Jayne has no objection to falling asleep beside his captain, it's waking up next to him that'll have him looking away in embarrassment. Mal can give him that. But first, a little more peace.


End file.
